


Only Feel Where Our Bodies Meet

by cherrybina



Series: Carry Me [2]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Age Difference, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-02
Updated: 2011-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-23 08:04:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/619878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherrybina/pseuds/cherrybina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on this prompt: <i>jailbait!Arthur being fucked for the first time by Eames, who's happy like a pig in mud that he's going to pop Arthur's cherry</i>. Originally posted <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/inception_kink/13659.html?thread=31433819#t31433819">here</a>. Arthur in a school uniform inspired by <a href="http://i657.photobucket.com/albums/uu292/cherrybina/JGL/Joseph-joseph-gordon-levitt-14643216-258-400.jpg">this picture</a>. WHY YES I AM A DIRTY PERV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only Feel Where Our Bodies Meet

It’s late in the evening when Eames finally gets out of the office, but instead of heading for his car, he walks to the diner across the street. He takes a seat in his usual booth and sighs as his phone starts buzzing. Eames is deep in thought, tapping out an email, when someone nudges his shoulder.

He looks up and sees Arthur, still dressed in his school uniform, the crisp white collar of his shirt and black tie peeking out from beneath a maroon sweater. Eames lets his eyes linger on the pale skin of Arthur’s neck before sliding his gaze down the length of his body. Arthur knows Eames is looking, but before he can say anything, Arthur’s mother appears beside the booth.

“What can I get for you this evening, Mr. Eames?” she asks, pulling a pen out from her apron.

“He just wants coffee,” Arthur says, smirking at Eames.

“Arthur,” she admonishes. “Leave Mr. Eames alone, and go finish your homework.”

Eames raises an eyebrow at Arthur then turns and smiles at his mother. “He’s fine,” he says. “And Arthur’s right. Just coffee tonight.”

When she walks away, Arthur slides into the booth across from Eames.

“Hey,” Arthur says, letting his leg brush against Eames’ under the table.

Eames chuckles and pulls his feet away from Arthur’s. “Shouldn’t you be off doing your homework, like your mother said?”

Arthur sighs and slumps down in the booth. “I finished an hour ago, and now I’m stuck here with nothing to do until her shift is over. She thinks it’s too far to walk home on my own.”

“She’s just trying to look out for you. You’re only sixteen, and the world is a dangerous place. Just think of all the terrible things that could happen to you out there.”

Arthur glares at Eames for a moment, then his eyes light up and he jumps up and runs over to his mother. Eames can’t hear the conversation from this distance, but Arthur’s mother nods and smiles, then offers Eames a wave before hurrying off to take care of her other customers.

“What was that all about?” Eames asks when Arthur returns.

“I told her that you offered to give me a ride home,” Arthur says smugly, resting his chin in his hand and grinning at Eames. “To make sure I get there safe and sound, and that nothing terrible happens to me along the way.”

“And what makes you think I don’t have anything better to do tonight than drive you home?”

“What could be better than me?” Arthur asks, kicking his feet against Eames’ again, and this time Eames doesn’t pull away.

“You’re an insufferable child, has anyone ever told you that?”

“You do,” Arthur says looking delighted. “All the time.”

***

“There you are,” Eames says as he pulls his car into the driveway and nods in the direction of Arthur’s house next door. “Home safe and sound, just like I promised.”

Arthur just snorts and gets out of the car, slamming the door closed, and following Eames up the front walkway.

“Oh, so you’re coming in, are you?”

“Don’t act like you haven’t been thinking about it since you walked into the diner,” Arthur says, jutting his chin out and daring Eames to disagree.

Eames doesn’t respond; he just unlocks the front door and lets Arthur in.

Arthur calls his mother while Eames shrugs off his jacket and tosses it over the back of the couch.

“Yeah, I promise,” Arthur says, rolling his eyes. “I’ll tell him.”

“Tell me what?” Eames asks when Arthur’s off the phone.

Arthur moves in close, right into Eames’ space. “She said to say thanks for driving me home.”

Eames reaches up and brushes the hair out of Arthur’s eyes. “Like I told you, the world is a dangerous place. So many terrible things just waiting to happen to you.”

Arthur smiles and closes his eyes as Eames fingers stroke down the side of his face. “She said we’re very lucky to have you for a neighbor.”

Eames wraps his hands around Arthur’s narrow hips and backs him up against the wall. “Let’s not talk about your mum anymore, yeah?”

Arthur’s mouth is hot and wet, and he whimpers into Eames’ mouth, his hands scrabbling at the back of Eames’ neck. It’s been more than a week since they’ve had the chance to do this, and Arthur’s kisses are sloppy and frantic, and he’s shaky in Eames’ arms, desperate already.

Eames takes a moment to pull Arthur’s sweater over his head and loosen his own tie before grabbing Arthur’s waist and rocking forward, pushing his thigh between Arthur’s legs. Arthur’s head falls back and hits the wall, and he lets Eames haul him up by the hips as he shamelessly ruts against Eames’ thigh. Eames is just about to reach for Arthur’s belt when he pulls his mouth away.

“I want - ” Arthur gasps. “Can we - ?”

Eames hooks his fingers in Arthur’s belt loops and tugs him closer. “Can we what? Tell me what you want.”

Arthur looks up at Eames. His face is flushed with embarrassment and arousal, but he holds Eames’ gaze as he says, “I want you to fuck me.”

Eames groans and surges forward, kissing Arthur again. They usually end up on the couch, Arthur half undressed, messy and urgent in Eames’ lap while Eames brings them both off with his hand, but lately he’s been thinking about more: Arthur on his back, or on his knees, with his legs spread, naked and wanting and begging Eames to touch him all the places he’s never been touched.

Now that Arthur is here, hot and willing in his arms, looking up at Eames through his lashes, Eames wants nothing more than to grab Arthur by the tie and drag him to his bed. He stops for a moment and takes a deep breath. “Are you sure that’s what you want?” he asks, cupping his hand on Arthur’s jaw and tilting his head up. “You do make such a pretty virgin.”

Arthur’s face is flushed pink and he’s panting for breath, but he manages to roll his eyes. “I haven’t been a virgin since the first time you let me come in your mouth.”

Eames laughs and rolls his hips against Arthur’s, enjoying the way it makes Arthur’s eyelids flutter. “I suppose you’re technically right,” Eames says, reaching down to palm Arthur’s backside through his trousers. “And you’re really sure you want me to fuck you?”

Arthur squirms, rubbing his arse onto Eames’ hand. “Yeah, yeah, I want it.”

It’s more than enough for Eames, and he leads Arthur into the bedroom.

***

Now that Eames finally has Arthur naked in his bed, he takes the opportunity to look and look. Arthur goes pink under his gaze, and Eames watches as the blush spreads down his neck and over his narrow chest. Arthur is all sharp angles and flat planes, and Eames strokes his hand down Arthur’s side, feeling the bump of his ribs through the skin.

Arthur shudders under his touch, then offers Eames a smile. “That feels good,” he says in a small voice, almost like he’s embarrassed to admit it.

Arthur is always so cocky and sure of himself, and the flash of vulnerability makes Eames pause for a moment and consider what they’re about to do. “I want you to feel good,” Eames tells him. “Promise you’ll tell me if it stops feeling good?”

When Arthur nods up at him, Eames moves over his body, gently urging his legs apart. Arthur lets Eames spread his thighs so Eames can kneel between them and map out every inch of Arthur’s skin.

Eames strokes his hands over the smooth skin of Arthur’s chest, then down to the line of dark hair that starts just below his belly button. Arthur’s cock is hard against his belly, a fat bead of precome already spilling over the head, and his hips stutter up when Eames’ fingers graze its length.

Eames bites his lip and considers, thinking back half a lifetime ago to when he was Arthur’s age, before making up his mind.

“I want you to show me,” Eames says softly as he bends Arthur’s knees so his feet rest flat on the bed. “Show me how you touch yourself when you’re alone.”

Arthur blushes, but doesn’t look away. “But I thought - I want _you_ to touch me.”

“I’m going to, I promise,” Eames says, snapping open the bottle of lube. “Now, go on. Show me.”

Arthur takes a shaky breath and wraps one hand around his cock and starts to stroke. Eames tilts the bottle and lets a little drip onto the head of Arthur’s cock, and Arthur gasps and rocks his hips up at the slick slide of his fist.

Eames can’t hold a grin back at that. “It feels good like that, doesn’t it?”

Arthur only moans in response and starts jacking himself faster, squeezing his eyes shut as fucks up into his own hand.

“Easy,” Eames whispers, wrapping his hand around Arthur’s fist, “Or this is going to be over before it starts.” He guides Arthur’s hand up and down on his cock, coaxing him into a slow rhythm.

Arthur opens his eyes and nods, gasping for breath, and letting Eames guide his hand. When Eames is sure Arthur is not right on the edge of coming, he releases his grip and slicks up his fingers. He pushes one of Arthur’s thighs back and slides his fingers down behind Arthur’s balls and rubs gently over his hole. Arthur’s hips stutter again and he loses his rhythm totally, knocking Eames’ hand away with his leg.

Eames waits for Arthur to settle, then strokes his fingers over Arthur’s hole again, just barely pressing in. When Arthur starts pushing into his touch, Eames slides just the tip of his finger in. Arthur lets out a low moan as he shifts his hips, his face screwing up in discomfort, and _fuck_ , he’s tight - so tight Eames isn’t sure he’ll ever open up enough for his cock, but then he feels Arthur relax around him, and Eames pushes his finger in a little deeper. Eames goes as slowly as he can, working his finger in an out, adding more lube until Arthur is dripping with it, running down the crack of his arse, slicking the insides of his thighs.

Eames doesn’t add a second finger until he’s sure Arthur can take it. This time, Arthur makes a soft noise that doesn’t sound like pain and opens right up for him, and Eames murmurs encouragement, telling Arthur how good he feels inside, how he’s doing so well, so perfect. Arthur just groans in reply, so Eames leans up and captures Arthur’s mouth in a kiss, his fingers still moving as he opens Arthur up more with every slick push inside.

When Eames breaks the kiss, Arthur gazes up at him, flushed and wide-eyed and already breathless, working his cock and clenching gently around Eames’ fingers, and Eames can see he’s close.

“That’s it,” Eames says, as he slides in again. “I want to feel you come with my fingers in you, just like this.”

“Shit,” Arthur gasps, jacking himself faster. “I’m gonna - ”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eames encourages him, still fucking Arthur with his fingers, “Come for me.”

Arthur does, arching up right off the bed, head thrown back as he furiously works his cock and shoves himself down on Eames fingers, coming all over his chest and belly. Eames pulls his fingers free and leans in, licking Arthur’s skin clean while Arthur shakes beneath him. Arthur lets him for a moment, then he tugs at Eames’ shoulders, pulling him up.

Eames buries his face in Arthur’s neck while Arthur catches his breath. “God, you taste good.”

Arthur turns his head, trying to get at Eames’ mouth, and when he kisses him, Arthur doesn’t flinch at the taste of himself on Eames’ tongue.

When Eames pulls back, Arthur smiles up at him, lazy and sated. “Good?” Eames asks him.

“That was - ” Arthur starts, then lets out a breathless laugh. “Yeah, good. But what about you?”

Eames smiles back and runs his open palm over Arthur’s cock. Arthur hisses in discomfort, but Eames feels him stiffen under his touch. “We’re not done yet.”

Arthur melts into the sheets looking totally fucked out while Eames pushes his thighs apart and slides two fingers back in. The third finger is a tight fit, but Eames just takes his time, waiting for Arthur to stop clenching around him before pushing in further, fucking him open as gently and carefully as he knows how. Eames’ cock is heavy and aching between his legs, but doesn’t dare rush this, not when Arthur is letting him in, little by little, trusting Eames to take care of him, and opening up so beautifully under his touch.

He keeps working Arthur open, getting him wetter with every thrust of his wrist, until Arthur rocks his hips down, trying to get more of Eames’ fingers and gasps, “Okay, okay, I’m ready.”

Eames pulls his fingers free and crawls up the length of Arthur’s body, pressing down against him. Arthur wraps his arms around Eames’ shoulders and rocks up, fully hard again. The skin between them is already slick with Arthur’s come and lube and sweat, and they both gasp as their cocks slide together.

Eames brushes his cheek against Arthur’s so he can whisper in his ear. “You want this? Tell me.”

Arthur wraps his legs around Eames’ waist and tugs his hips in, whispering, “I want it. I want you to fuck me. _Please_.”

Eames’ hands shake when he opens the lube again and he manages to spill it all over the sheets when he slicks his cock. He pushes his fingers into Arthur one more time, just to make sure, and Arthur is so wet and ready that they slide right in. With an unsteady breath, Eames’ pulls his fingers free and lines up his cock.

Arthur cries out when Eames pushes in, and Eames stops, frozen in place, shaking with the effort of holding back. Eames waits and waits until he thinks he’s going to die just like this, with the head of his cock trapped in the impossible tight heat of Arthur’s arse. Just when he thinks he’s going to have to pull out, Arthur shifts, tilting his hips just enough so that Eames’ cock slides in a little more. Arthur makes another noise, but it’s a deep throaty sound this time, so Eames keeps moving just like that, slower than he’s ever gone before, until he feels his balls brush Arthur’s arse. Arthur is trembling beneath him, his arms clenched around Eames’ neck, gripping him so tight Eames can barely breathe.

“It’s okay,” Eames murmurs into the skin of Arthur’s neck. “I’ve got you, it’s okay.”

Arthur groans and his legs slip off Eames’ back, thighs falling wide open, letting Eames push in just a little deeper.

“Let me,” Eames says, trying to disentangle himself from Arthur’s grip. “Arthur, let me - you have to...”

Eames finally breaks free of Arthur’s grasp, and when he braces himself on the bed and looks down, it’s all he can do not to come on the spot. Arthur is flushed all the way down his chest, his legs splayed wide open, looking fucked out and debauched and so very young.

“That’s it,” Eames says, working to keep his voice even as he pulls out then fucks back in. “So good, you're so tight for me.”

Arthur doesn’t answer; he just moans and arches up as Eames fucks him. Eames tries to go slow and savor every second, but he’s been close to coming just from watching Arthur fall apart beneath him, and now that his cock is buried so deep inside of this tight heat, Eames knows he isn’t going to last. Arthur keeps making these soft little grunts and rocking his hips up to meet Eames’ thrusts, and Eames feels himself hurtling toward the edge already.

Eames pauses for a moment to hook Arthur’s knees up on his shoulders, then shoves back in. He fucks Arthur hard, pushing on his thighs until Arthur’s knees are up around his ears, and _fuck_ , Arthur just bends and takes it all.

Eames has Arthur bent nearly in half, his stomach rubbing against Arthur’s cock with every thrust, and the only warning he has before Arthur comes is the way his legs go tight around his shoulders. A second later, Arthur shudders, slicking the skin between them and clenching down around Eames’ cock. It’s enough to send Eames over the edge, and he shoves in hard and comes, gasping into Arthur’s neck as he fills him up.

It several minutes before Eames can move, and when he does, he pulls his cock out slowly. Arthur screws his eyes shut and hisses, and Eames reaches down and rubs his fingers gently over Arthur’s hole, where he’s open and wet and sore.

When Arthur finally stops trembling, Eames looks Arthur over. He’s a mess, sweaty hair plastered to his forehead and the insides of his thighs and chest all sticky with come, but he flashes Eames a lopsided grin.

“You okay?” Eames asks.

Arthur nods, then looks down at himself and wrinkles his nose. “Just kind of gross.”

Eames hums and runs his fingers through the come smeared on Arthur’s stomach. “How about we go take a shower and get cleaned up?”

Arthur’s eyes light up and he raises his eyebrows suggestively. “A shower together?”

Eames laughs. “You can’t possibly go again just yet.”

Arthur lifts his hand and traces his fingers over Eames’ lips. “I bet I could for your mouth.”

Eames just shakes his head. “If only I could be sixteen again.”

Arthur smirks at him, every bit the cocky, self-assured boy that Eames doesn’t even try to resist. “I guess you’ll just have to settle for fucking me instead.”

“Yeah,” Eames says, leaning down for a kiss. “I suppose that’s enough.”


End file.
